


Earth 14 - The Stark that lost everything

by Cammerel



Series: Starker - Multiverse Shenanigans [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Just the canon ones, M/M, Multiverse, No SURPRISING Major deaths, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/Cammerel
Summary: He holds up his hands, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, I’m you!”“You’re not me, I’m me,” the other Tony says coldly, hand still raised, “Don’t make me go for the kill. I’ve had a pretty good day so far and the last thing I wanna do is add to the body count.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read separate, but shouldn't be.

… Might as well.

Tony commits himself to making the wrist strap over the course of the next three days.

Initially, he convinces himself he’s doing it because he wants to prove that he can. That kind of morphs into a persistence that he doesn’t like projects left incomplete when there’s no real reason for it. Then, he’s doing it because it’s something that he and Peter had decided to work on together - it makes him feel closer to a kid that doesn’t even exist in his little universe anymore.

In his last stage of grief, he admits to himself why he’s /really/ doing it. And he doesn’t like it, but it’s something.

Peter calls him, or tries to, at least seven times over those seventy-two hours. But he isn’t difficult to dodge or get out of a conversation within two or three exchanges.

God, what an idiot he’d been.

Admitting his feelings to his own Peter was a rookie mistake, he knew it when he did it. He should’ve just listened to his gut and not gone through with it.

Peter, other Peter, had convinced him otherwise, and he wanted to believe it. But, well, you don’t make the mistakes Tony’s made and get to have a happily ever after at the end of it all. Least of all, with probably the most pure being in the entire known universe.

Now, with this new mistake behind him, all he hungers for is more proof.

How real is the pursuit of something with Peter? Any Peter?

Apart from the mindblowing sex, there should be other things, right? It /had/ been nice to have a lab buddy, someone that wasn’t angry because he didn’t want to stay in bed and fall asleep together, someone that could pick his brain. But both of those alone can’t make a real relationship work, can they?

He finishes the portal device and puts it on, not even bothering to look back or prepare himself when he steps through it.

He’s not expecting to drop by about thirty feet, but he does.

Fortunately, his thrusters activate at the last second and push him back up so that he can land softly on the bottom level of a crater, gaping and old from the looks of it.

His brows furrow, “FRIDAY, can you scan the area for signs of life?”

“Of course, boss,” she’s silent, but then responds, “No sign of human life within a full mile radius in all directions.”

“Animal?”

“A single female desert cottontail.”

Tony curses under his breath and blasts off for Queens.

His mood darkens the further he travels, scanning when he can and searching with his eyes just in case the sensors are broken. But there’s nothing. Nothing… anywhere. There’s just rubble, parked or abandoned cars, half-destroyed homes… and nothing as far as signs of life.

He reaches Queens, New York and the apartment. But his stomach drops in the same way he did when he stepped over initially.

Turning in a full 360 to take it all in, he makes his way to the door that /should’ve/ been Peter’s apartment and knocks. It’s probably stupid, but he takes the chance, regardless, because somewhere in his gut he refuses to believe that Peter would ever be anywhere else.

There’s no answer though, as he expected, so he opens the door - mildly disturbed by the fact that it wasn’t even locked.

Everything is completely untouched and looks like it hasn’t been inhabited in /years/, cobwebs have started encroaching on everything from the ceiling to the floor. From the looks of it, nothing has even been looted.

He steps in further, past the kitchen to Peter’s room and pushes the door open. Had he not known better, he would’ve guessed they just moved… quickly, and maybe just left the furniture or something. But his eyes fall on the shoes at the door and the backpack, and then the pile of ash at the desk in the corner.

“Oh, god,” he says weakly, dropping to one knee and reaching out, but stopping himself.

It’s not possible it could be anyone else. It’s Peter, he knows it is.

On the floor between him and the chair as a pair of red-tinted aviators. And Tony knows they’re his own. Not /his/ own, but his.

He feels sick but doesn’t want to lose his lunch in Peter’s /home/ of all places, so he turns away to leave, stopping when he sees the figure filling the frame of the front door. The sound of his repulsors charging and he ducks just as a blast comes at him, hitting the wall of Peter’s bedroom behind him.

He holds up his hands, “Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, I’m you!”

“You’re not me, I’m me,” the other Tony says coldly, hand still raised, “Don’t make me go for the kill. I’ve had a pretty good day so far and the last thing I wanna do is add to the body count.”

Tony looks at himself, hands still in the air as his eyes wander.

He can see the age in his own face, the emptiness in his eyes not completely unlike how they were when he was much, /much/ younger and had nothing to lose. It’s also kind of been a /long/ time since he’s seen his hair this short, longer as it nears the center, but trimmed close on the sides and back. There’s more silver than brown, far more silver than his own. It’s not a bad look, but it makes his other self appear less welcoming than he’d like.

He doesn’t miss the long cut leading from his chin, over and across his lips in a diagonal line, or the scar in his right brow.

“What are you doing in his room? Why are you here?”

Tony shrugs, shaking his head, “I… I was trying to find… I don’t know,” it sounds stupid now, saying it aloud to a harder version of himself especially, “Another Earth where we were meant to be, I guess.”

“Who?”

Tony glances around, opening his mouth to elaborate when his other self cuts in.

“Well, you’re definitely on the wrong one,” he says, eyes narrowing more, “Get out and get lost, or I’ll end you. Don’t make me say it again.”

“What… happened here?”

“What does it /look/ like happened here, genius?”

Tony’s shoulders sag, that familiar ache in his chest folding over to expose a raw nerve, “Looks like… the snap, only worse.”

“Something like that.”

“Not really up for talking?” Tony asks, trying to get his other self to at least show some courtesy or maybe a sense of humor. He doesn’t budge, but he /does/ seem to get a little more agitated.

“No.”

Tony swallows, “That bad?”

“Just leave already. You’re not making it any better by being here.”

“If there’s anything I can do,” Tony promises himself, “I will. Okay? I’ll be back, I can help. I pr-”

“Don’t bother.”

He looks down to his wrist, clicks the display to open another portal and then… nothing happens. Tony clicks it again, and then again. But nothing.

“Great, are you actually stuck here?” his other self asks in frustration

Tony shrugs helplessly, “Looks like it, any change you got a lab where I can work?”

His other self grunts in frustration and leaves.

He can only assume that that’s a ‘yes’, so he follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic series (which is already over 40k) and anything I write like it are already posted elsewhere first and foremost. With at least 6+ Starker fics incoming over there, I figured I'd toss something up here for the time being, but updates will be slow as I have many other Starker WIPs and not a lot of real time.
> 
> For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more (speech bubble in the bottom right).


	2. Chapter 2

The lab isn’t much, but it’s better than nothing. He’s certainly worked with less.

His other self isn’t all that hospitable, which isn’t surprising considering how they met, and spends most of the time reading a book on (of all things) plants.

Tony finally looks up to his other self, needing some sense of companionship after five hours of complete silence, even if it’s from himself.

“Light reading?”

“Mm.”

Tony presses his lips together, letting out a heavy breath through his nose, “Look, you can cut the tough guy act with me, I know your game better than anyone. You must be dying to have someone to talk to. And I’m likely leaving in less than twenty-four hours, so why not… share a little?”

“Don’t act like you know me. You don’t know me,” his other self says, glancing up from the book but only for a second.

“Oh, I know you,” Tony responds, “I’m real familiar with this whole act you’re putting on. You can sell it to others but you can’t sell it to me. I know whatever happened here is killing you.”

“It would kill anyone.”

“Assuming that you lost Pep and Happy, two of the small handful of people you’ve ever really loved-”

“Do us both a favor and stop talking already.”

“I know you loved Peter-”

His other self is up from his seat so fast that Tony barely has a second to brace himself before the fist connects with his jaw.

“Don’t…” his doppelganger grabs his shirt, pushing him back against the workstation, “Don’t pretend you know me. Don’t pretend you understand what we did or /didn’t/ have. You don’t know a thing. Don’t you /ever/ say his name.”

Tony straightens himself back up but doesn’t fight the hand holding him in place as he feels the familiar tinge of blood in his mouth, “Sorry, I get it, kid’s a sore spot,” he wets his bottom lip, hands moving to his other self’s waist, “But really, I wanna help. I wanna do what I can to… fix this for you.”

He blinks in surprise when he glances down and sees his other self’s chest just under the fabric of a navy blue button-up. There’s the unmistakable color of his /armor/, and the center piece of it all, molded out until it becomes skin.

“There’s no fixing it,” his doppelganger says darkly, turning to his own desk again and putting his hands down for support, “There’s no undo, no unsnap. If I try anything… I risk the lives of every last man, woman, and child left-”

“Then I’ll do something else, maybe I can-”

“Stop!” his other self turns, eyes wild, “Stop, okay? You don’t know anything. You’re just putting lives you’re not responsible for at risk. Don’t make promises, I don’t need them. What I /need/ is to get these people through this, to make sure that there’s a brighter future for Earth once my time comes. That’s all I need. Don’t try to-...”

Tony sees his shoulders shake, the ache filling him to comfort his other self, to somehow make things better. His thumbs move in soothing circles just on the edge of the tucked in button-up and the low-cut black jeans, trying to offer some sense of companionship.

“If I wanted help I would’ve looked for it.”

“What happened?” Tony asks again, his own curiosity getting the better of him, but he doesn’t ask it expecting much.

His other self doesn’t respond.

“What happened after the snap? After Thanos-”

“We tried to go back,” his other self finally humors him, “/I/ tried to go back, to get him back because he’s the only thing that fucking mattered in this fucking world. We didn’t even get the chance before Thanos… and-and then we lost everything. He followed us, he came to a future where he’d already done his damage. I don’t know how he knew, but he did. We practically gave him the stones on a silver platter.”

Tony winces just thinking about it.

For a brief second, he’s glad he didn’t even attempt to back on his Earth. Anyone that would’ve pushed him into it probably died in the snap - and with Peter there, safe, there was no reason to pursue such a hopeless agenda.

“He took everything from me, he took everything that mattered. So leave. Don’t do me any favors. I’ve done enough damage to these people without your help.”

“You said there were people. How many?”

“Enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Enough to recover? Enough to survive? Stop being vague, it’s not doing either of us any good by being cryptic.”

Tony shakes his head, “Enough to repopulate without weird… you know, cross-contamination. All that fun stuff. There aren’t /many/, but they’re safe. Is that enough for you? You come here, you threaten everything I’m trying to do to keep these people alive-”

“What about Peter?”

“I can’t get him back, he’s gone, he vanished with the rest of them,” his other self says, throat going hoarse, “No last words, nothing… I don’t even remember the last thing I said to him…”

Tony watches the broken expression come over his other self, but he puts it away as quickly as it appears.

“The infinity stones don’t exist anymore,” he recovers, clearing his throat, “Thanos made sure of that. If there was another way, I would do it in a heartbeat. But there’s nothing I can do. I’ve accepted that.”

“Sounds a lot like accepting defeat.”

His other self stares at him darkly, finally sitting down and returning to his book, “Yeah, well, it’s my defeat I’m accepting, so that’s none of your business. Just fix your stupid tech and get the hell off of my planet.”

Tony nods sickly and takes the exit cue, turning back to his own work without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic series (which is already over 40k) and anything I write like it are already posted elsewhere first and foremost. With at least 6+ Starker fics incoming over there, I figured I'd toss something up here for the time being, but updates will be slow as I have many other Starker WIPs and not a lot of real time.
> 
> For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more (speech bubble in the bottom right).


	3. Chapter 3

While he’s working on the energy source, upgrading a few pieces in the meantime to fill the empty hours, he marks the universe current in his catalog so that he can return should the opportunity present itself.

Tony puts everything back in place down to the last screw, winding the dial over and locking it back in.

He glances back up to his other self, seeing that hollow, haunted look and being reminded of how he felt when Thanos did his snap in his own time. Granted, he hadn’t lost /everything/. Peter was still standing right there beside him as everyone else but him and Quill turned to dust.

He still has nightmares about it.

But at least he had his Peter.

He can’t even imagine seeing that look in Peter’s eyes as he faded away. It would probably destroy him too.

“I’m so sorry,” he says to himself, “I’m sorry he took everything from you. I’m sorry you’re alone.”

The other Tony shrugs, trying to play it off, “I do what I can.”

“If I find a chance to make this any easier for you, I’m gonna take it.”

“Don’t-”

“I won’t do anything extreme, not like bringing in some more infinity stones, I won’t do that, I know it’s been hard for you,” Tony tries to assure him, raising his hands to show that he doesn’t mean any harm, “You have my word. Just… a little push. Promise.”

“If I find you back here, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Or maybe you’ll thank me.”

“Doubtful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part four coming soon...
> 
> This fic series (which is already over 40k) and anything I write like it are already posted elsewhere first and foremost. With at least 6+ Starker fics incoming over there, I figured I'd toss something up here for the time being, but updates will be slow as I have many other Starker WIPs and not a lot of real time.
> 
> For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more (speech bubble in the bottom right).


End file.
